


leaving

by Ashling



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-06 03:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19054030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling
Summary: a snapshot of Carol and Maria





	leaving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



> dear geckoholic, I saw you prefer works on the angsty side of the scale, and so I wrote this. I hope you like it!
> 
> many thanks to [Gammarad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gammarad/works) for their invaluable beta work

If it had been purely up to her, Carol would have much rather come back to Louisiana. But when Maria got that letter from S.H.I.E.L.D., her eyes had lit up in a way Carol always found impossible to ignore. Besides, Fury was maybe one of the only other people on Earth that fully appreciated how good a pilot Maria really was, so Carol took care to be as supportive as she could about the whole thing. (Other than maybe a few jokes about Area 51, but those were irresistible.) Monica got a couple months of fun with her cousins, and Carol got another key. It was only a season.

Still, Nevada didn’t feel like home; the desert was all wrong and the little beige and white apartment complex was unbearably bland in every way. Even the mottled dog that pressed its little dark nose inquisitively to the window seemed muted, didn’t bark. Carol was tempted to bark at it, just to see what would happen. But no, she had to be good in this particular neighborhood. Maria would get on better if her girlfriend didn’t antagonize the neighbors.

Her rambling train of thought was interrupted by the squeak of hinges, the door to Maria’s apartment swinging inward when she tried to fit her key into the lock. Suddenly everything else fell away. Maria leaving her own front door unlocked was as unnatural as lightning in a clear sky and ten times more ominous.

Carol suited up silently, lights-out, and then ventured inside. She listened carefully. There wasn’t any movement, except a little noise from the direction of the couch, a long faint rasping inhale that wasn’t quite a snore. It had to be Maria.

Carol makes her way to her as silently as she can, and then turns up the lighting of her suit, slowly, until it illuminates the room in a red-gold glow.

Maria was stretched out, one arm dangling off the edge of the couch. She was wearing Carol’s leather jacket and a striped red and white crop top, jeans, and big gold hoop earrings. The typical Friday night getup, the kind of thing she’d wear for beer and karaoke and clumsy eager kisses in the back of their car. But instead of displaying the usual loose smile, Maria’s sleeping face was tightened into a small frown, and she smelled of smoke. Not cigarette smoke, either.

It took Maria a couple minutes to wake up, which was unusual, but once she did, her first thought was: “Carol?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Maria’s face creased into a smile, tired and sad but still warm. “What are you doing?”

Carol knelt beside the couch so their faces were level, gave her a careful kiss. “I knew you’d probably go out tonight, thought I’d come in and make you breakfast in the morning before I collected some things from Nick. Turns out we need more firepower than previously expected. What happened here?”

Maria set her teeth before replying, a familiar expression that never meant anything good. “There was a wildfire.”

“Yeah?” Carol ran her fingers through Maria’s hair.

“I was out on a flight, just practicing, and then I heard people calling for help on the radio.”

“But you couldn’t reach them?”

“No, I could, but—” Maria made a vague gesture. “It was this whole family. This whole family, out in the woods on a camping trip, somebody’s birthday party. An uncle, I think. He was turning fifty years old, and he loved hiking and fishing. One of the girls kept telling me about it, like explaining would help. Shawna, I think her name was? Thirteen or fourteen years old. She wouldn’t stop talking.”

“Yeah?” Carol said nothing else, just looked at her with those warm brown eyes, and eventually Maria came back to herself.

“I landed the plane,” she said, “which was bad enough, with all those trees. I had to land it on the banks of a brook, and then they all came running. I was shouting at them but they wouldn’t listen. Shoving and crowding and me screaming at them to fucking listen, there wasn’t room for everyone, the plane wouldn’t take it. And then there was a gunshot. I didn’t see who it was, at first. I just ducked. Instinct, you know? But then there was quiet, and someone talking, so I peeked out, and it was a woman. She was so old, she had to be the grandmother, or somebody’s great-aunt, maybe. She had a hunting rifle. _The kids,_ she was saying. _Get the kids in first._ Except there wasn’t even room for all the kids, either.”

Silence, again, and this time Carol couldn’t bear to wait. “How many?” she said.

“The plane was built to carry two: pilot and a second. A little space for cargo in the back, but not much. It’s the one I got for cheap from Lieutenant Sutton when he retired and went back to D.C. It’s meant for a photographer, or fun.”

“How much space for cargo?”

“There were maybe three dozen people there, at least twenty kids. And the plane could only take nine of them.”

“What did you do?”

“I took nine.” Maria’s eyes had gone glassy, and though she didn’t look away, she wasn’t really looking Caro in the eyes when she said, “I left everyone else behind.”

“You did the right thing,” Carol said, but Maria didn’t seem to her it. She tried again, palm on Maria’s cheek, tentative: “Hey, you did the right thing.”

Maria finally met her eyes, mouth tight, eyes pleading. Still trying not to cry. “Then why does it feel like this?”

Carol gave her the only answer she had. It was the truth, too, but that was cold comfort. “This is what it feels like, sometimes.”

Maria nodded, once, twice, and then leaned forward, face crumpling. Carol gathered her up.

“Sometimes you can’t save everyone,” she said into Maria’s shoulder. “Sometimes the job’s impossible.”

Maria nodded. Carol could feel it more than she can see it. She could feel the sobs, too, and there was nothing else to say, nothing else to do but hold Maria close, and wait. Finally, Maria stopped crying, and then it was only the soft breathing of two women holding each other in the dark.

  
Later, in bed, Carol kept her eyes open. She liked to watch Maria sleep, and that was usual, for them. But this time, Maria refused to sleep.

“Are you gonna have nightmares?” Carol said.

“Yeah, but I’m—it’s fine. I don’t want to go to sleep, yet, but that’s not why.”

“Why, then?”

“Cause you’ll be gone after breakfast.” Maria said it so softly, Carol could tell she was trying to make sure there wasn’t even the smallest hint of reproach in her voice. It still stung.

“No, I’m won’t.”

“Carol.” Very tired, very patient. “It’s okay.”

“I’m going to take the week off.”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

“But I’m gonna.”

“What about the—” Maria made a little noise in the back of her throat, a little apology for forgetting. “The one with the tiny head that you hate.”

“That’s most of them, babe.”

“The green one. Titan?”

“Titannus? Yeah, he’s still out there, but it’s okay. I’m not the only one anymore. Thor owes me several favors. He can handle things for a little while.”

“You’re gonna let Thor fight him instead of you?” There was a healthy dose of skepticism in Maria’s voice, but affection, too.

“I’m gonna stay home with my girlfriend for a minute.”

“You’re gonna willingly pass up on a fight.”

“Okay, I’ll put it this way: I’m always gonna have enemies, and if I’m running short, I can always go and make some more. But I’m never gonna find anyone else like you. Never.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then Maria said, the smile clear in her voice, “You’re right.”

Carol laughed into her hair, and then kissed her. She aimed for Maria’s cheek, but ended up kissing her neck instead. It was alright. “Goodnight,” she murmured.

“Goodnight.”

 

In the morning, there were slow kisses, and a long shower, and a hot breakfast. Half a hot breakfast, at least. Carol had barely finished her first chocolate chip pancake when the call came, and then their phone rang, and it was Fury, calling to say that Thor had apparently disappeared from the face of the known universe, and where the fuck was she, sleeping in?

She wanted to throw the phone across the room, but if she did, it’d likely go through the wall and kill someone. From the expression on Maria’s face, she knew the meaning of the phone call was plain.

“I’m so sorry,” she tried to say, but Maria stopped her. And Carol looked her in the eyes and saw that she understood.

It still stung.


End file.
